


Coffee Date

by SmartKIN



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee Shops, F/F, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartKIN/pseuds/SmartKIN
Summary: Heather doesn't expect to get a girl's number out of her coffee date with Stiles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Migrating my backlog of tumblr fic. You can [read this on tumblr](http://lloydoholic.tumblr.com/post/129222897394/coffee-date-headia) too, if you want.
> 
> So I realized that Headia is a really cute ship and had to write something for it. I also made some edits with my admittedly limited photoshop skills, check out [my headia tag](http://lloydoholic.tumblr.com/tagged/headia).

When they agreed to meet at the pretentious Starbucks knock-off in the middle of town, Heather realized with a start that she hadn’t seen Stiles in over a year. She wondered briefly whether that made her a bad friend and didn’t quite manage to convince herself that Stiles hadn’t tried to make any plans with her either. They had texted some, of course, and had talked on the phone on the anniversary of Claudia’s death, but she hadn’t run into him at the cemetery. Maybe they were finally growing apart, just as she had feared when she had enrolled in a different high school.

Heather arrived a little bit early and decided to wait in front of the coffee shop rather than inside, and pulled out her phone to distract herself while constantly checking any passersby for a sign of Stiles.

She only had to wait a minute or so, and was pleased to notice that Stiles was early, too. All thoughts on the quality of their friendship flew out the window as soon as they spotted each other.

Jogging up to her, Stiles’ entire face lit up and Heather couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his form-fitting sweatshirt and his shock of tousled hair. Gone, apparently, was the buzz cut.

“ _Heeey_ ,” he crooned and hugged her as she laughed happily.

“It’s so good to see you,” she greeted and liked how he squeezed her a little tighter in reply, before stepping back and peering at her with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it to your party.”

“It’s no biggie,” she hastened to assure him, although it kind of was. She had banked on him being there, to be honest, but maybe it wasn’t too late to proposition him.

“Still, coffee’s on me today,” he replies with a wink which made him look endearingly dorky.

Heather was glad that Stiles hadn’t developed a fuckboy attitude to go with the new look and was still the boy she had grown up with.

“Should we go in?”

“Most definitely, yeah!”

Heather found them a couple of comfortable seats in one corner while Stiles waited in line to get their coffee. She hated waiting alone for something and got out her phone again to check Facebook and even though nothing new had popped up on her newsfeed, she scrolled through the latest posts anyway.

After several minutes of distracted boredom a paper cup suddenly appeared right in front of her face and she gigglesnorted, throwing a fake glare at Stiles for sneaking up on her like that.

She took the offered cup of coffee with a thanks and watched in amusement as he fell into the seat across from her, all long limbs and no coordination.

For the next hour or so they talked about anything and everything; people they both knew, Heather’s family, Stiles’ dad, school, Mrs. Johnson’s crazy dog, the novel Heather was currently reading. It was comfortable and familiar and she realized that she had missed hanging out with her oldest friend.

They were just discussing whether or not to get a refill when a shadow suddenly fell over them. Heather looked up and saw that a pretty redheaded girl had appeared next to their table. She was just about to ask if they could help her, when the girl beat her to the punch.

“Stiles,” the girl said in a perky tone of voice that didn’t hide the demanding edge at all. “Who’s your friend?”

Across from her, Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Lydia.. this is Heather,” he supplied somewhat sardonically, before turning back to Heather. “Heather-feather, this is Lydia. We go to school together.”

Now it was Lydia who rolled her eyes.

Clever, Heather thought, and wondered when Stiles had become so smooth. By using his old nickname for her he implied that they had known each other for some time and that it wasn't a first date or anything like that, and by telling her that he went to school with Lydia, Heather herself should be able to relax in Lydia’s presence. Weirdly enough, it worked, even though she already knew of the other girl, knew that this was the infamous girl that Stiles had had a crush on since forever.

Lydia pointedly gave her a lingering once-over, but the expected queen-bee judgment never came. Instead Heather found something in the girl’s eyes that made her pulse quicken. Desire sparked between them as Lydia’s hooded gaze studied her a fraction too long, before turning sharply to Stiles. Nobody had ever looked at her like that without making her skin crawl and she felt a little light-headed, unsure what to think.

“You should get Heather a refill,” Lydia said briskly and Heather shivered a little at the sound of her name falling from those plush lips. Nervously, she swallowed, only to realize that her mouth had become bone-dry all of a sudden.

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles replies with a mocking salute and got up to do as he had been asked. Lydia promptly slipped into the vacated seat, crossing her legs -– Heather was powerless against the urge to follow the long curving line of those pale shins with her eyes, those thighs -– and watching Stiles walk up to the counter.

“So, Heather,” the redhead began and gave her her full attention. But before she could continue, Heather bravely cut in.

“You should give me your number.”

Lydia’s palpable surprise at her assertiveness quickly morphed into an appreciative smirk.

“I like the way you think,” she purred, and pulled a pink gel pen out of her purse.

Heather may not want to be a 17-year-old virgin, but that didn’t mean she had to sleep with a boy, now did it? Watching Lydia’s long fingers as they wrote down her number on a stray napkin, she just knew that this was going to be amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> **Tell me what you think?**


End file.
